


The Games We Play

by whizzerdbrown



Category: Falsettos - Lapine/Finn
Genre: A little bit of everything, Angst, College AU, Comedy, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/F, F/M, Fluff, M/M, Modern AU, Pep Band AU, Pining, Slow Burn, i had a lot of fun with it, rival school au, so i'm redoing it lmao, this is a rewrite of my own fic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-16
Updated: 2018-01-18
Packaged: 2019-03-05 18:23:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,598
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13393602
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whizzerdbrown/pseuds/whizzerdbrown
Summary: { i wrote this fic before but i'm rewriting it bc i liked it so much lmao }Applebaum Community College and Pharaoh Tech College have always been rival schools. When Whizzer from Applebaum Community ends up crossing paths with Marvin from Pharaoh Tech, the outcome can't be expected to be very great.





	1. first game

The stands were packed on both sides, nearly crowded. The mid-August sun was beating down on every sports fan that dared to sit in the scorching hot bleachers. Nobody really seemed to care about that, though -- everyone’s attention was on the game. On who was winning, on whether the refs were making correct calls or not, and on whose bets seemed to be correct at the moment. It wasn’t the heat of the weather that mattered, it was the heat of the game. 

It was Applebaum Community College’s first home game of the year, and their band, though tiny, was absolutely ready to pep up the players, the cheerleaders, and any other fans that happened to be occupying the rest of their stands. On the opposite side of the field sat Pharoah Tech College and their much lager band and slightly smaller fanbase. 

Whizzer Brown, the lead trombonist of Applebaum’s band, liked to believe that the opposing team’s fanbase was so small because of how bad that team was at football. Cordelia Asch, the only oboe player in the band, and Mendel Weisenbachfeld, unfairly earned second chair flautist, knew the truth was that the rest of their school was either in the band or on the field. 

“It seems like they’re even worse this year,” Whizzer mumbled, over the shouts of other college-aged people.

It wasn’t necessarily that Pharoah Tech was _worse_ this year. It was more that the game had just started, had only been going on for about an hour (if that), and that Applebaum just seemed to be winning currently. Mendel decided to point this out, but WHizzer wasn’t having it.

“Or maybe, we just got better. I knew last year’s seniors were lousy nothings.”

Cordelia couldn’t hold back a laugh. “Whizzer, you were dating one of them.”

“But he dumped Whizzer, remember?” Mendel pointed out. “So, _obviously,_ all of them are lousy nothings.”

Whizzer was about to thank Mendel for seeing the things the way he did, before realizing with slight disdain that Mendel was poking fun at him. He huffed, crossing his arms, and childishly dedicated his attention back to the trombone in his lap. 

“To be fair,” Cordelia added on, probably 99% for Whizzer’s benefit, “this year’s freshman are really good. Or, well, the ones that are actually playing.”

Mendel nodded, taking a closer look at the field. “So, the three of them that aren’t sitting along sidelines and chugging gatorade like they deserved it.”

Their conversation was interrupted by the sound of Pharaoh Tech’s school song. A point was scored for the visiting team. Whizzer booed rather loudly, earning a giggle from Cordelia and a frown from Mendel. 

\---

They were tied, now. Marvin would have cheered, if it weren’t for the loud ‘boooo’ that he heard coming from the other team. His two best friends -- _only_ friends, really -- Trina Bell, first chair flute, and Charlotte DuBois, first chair bari saxophone, were playing along with the band. Marvin Blumen, however, pretended to. He played trumpet and was, unsurprisingly, last chair. He always ended up there. He couldn’t play the stupid thing worth a damn, and refused to try any other instruments. 

“Did you hear that asshole?” Marvin hissed to the two of them, only seconds after the song had ended. 

“No,” Charlotte grumbled, “because we were actually _playing.”_

Trina sighed. “Do you even _try_ anymore, Marvin?”

Marvin ignored those blows to his ego. “Some asshole on the other team was booing us. How childish is that?”

Charlotte and Trina both almost pointed out how childish Marvin himself was being, for getting so upset over something small like that, but they didn’t. They knew better than to do that, especially since they didn’t want to start a full blown argument in the middle of the already packed, tight squeeze, bleachers. 

“Maybe if you actually played, you wouldn’t have heard it,” Trina settled with saying instead, sighing. 

Marvin didn’t say anything to that. Charlotte quickly changed the topic. 

“We’re tied,” she said, blowing some of her hair out of her face. It was too short to fit into a ponytail, but too long to be able to successfully keep it out of her eyes. An awkward stage, but it looked cute the majority of the time, so she wasn’t complaining. “If we can just get one more point, we’ll win it for sure.”

“We’ll win,” Marvin stated, confident as ever. Neither of the girls expected anything less. “We won the last game of last year. We can win the first one this year.”

“Don’t be too sure,” Trina murmured, leaning forward in her seat to better see the field. Seconds later, Applebaum Community College scored a point. 

Marvin glared as he watched a rather flamboyant looking man on the opposite side of the field let out an excited whoop before joining the rest of his band in their own school song. That man was probably the same asshole behind the ‘boo’ing just a minute or so ago. Marvin already couldn’t stand the guy.

\---

“Marvin, what are you _doing?”_

Marvin didn’t listen, storming forward and grabbing that stupid guy’s stupid arm. 

The guy’s friends stopped with him, watching in surprise as the tall asshole himself was quickly turned to face the fuming Marvin. 

“Can I help you?” The guy had the nerve to ask, without fear or nervousness at all. He seemed completely calm, as if Pharoah Tech college kids often angrily grabbed his arm and swirled him around.

“Did you _boo_ my _team?”_

The other guy pretended to think about this for a moment before smiling innocently, mischief flickering in his eyes, as he nodded. “Yeah, I believe that I did, indeed, boo your team. Your team that ended up _losing,_ I should point out.” The guy looked Marvin up and down, before his gaze landed on the trumpet in Marvin’s other hand with a laugh. “Of _course_ you play trumpet.”

That was enough for Marvin. He flung his trumpet back at Trina and Charlotte, one of which who managed to catch it because he didn’t hear it hit the ground, and threw a punch at the taller guy. 

“Oh my god!” One of the guy’s friends cried. The girl. Marvin ignored it, going in for another punch before getting pulled back by Charlotte. (Which meant that Trina was the one holding his trumpet. He should have known she caught it, she played volleyball and softball.)

“Marvin, you ass,” Charlotte groaned, holding both of his arms as she pulled him away.

The blonde girl was trying to check the tall guy’s face, but he waved her off dismissively. Marvin hadn’t hit him hard enough to leave a bruise, he observed, but the guy sure did have a red welt on his cheek. And, surprisingly enough, the guy was grinning. 

“Nice punch.”

Marvin almost threw himself at the guy again. He probably would have, if it wasn’t for Charlotte holding him back. She was much stronger than she looked. She dragged him off. 

\---

“I am _so_ sorry,” the girl holding the trumped apologized, watching as the other two left. 

Whizzer offered a shrug. “Tell him that if he _really_ wants to fight, he can meet me behind the library tonight at midnight. If he isn’t there at twelve sharp, I’m leaving.”

He turned on his heel, ignoring the look of shock on the girl’s face -- and on Cordelia’s and Mendel’s faces, too, actually -- and started heading back towards the dorms. That man really did have a good punch, though. Whizzer was expecting a bruise. 

“Whizzer,” Cordelia hissed, catching up to him. “What the _hell_ do you think you’re doing? You can’t just go starting fights like that!”

“I didn’t start it,” Whizzer pouted. “I’m finishing it. If he hadn’t punched me, I wouldn’t have offered it.”

Mendel, popping up at Whizzer’s other side, huffed. “You’re going to get hurt. You’re lucky he didn’t do anything worse to you.”

Whizzer responded to Mendel with a roll of his eyes. Part of him sincerely hoped to see that other guy behind the library later that night.


	2. the fight

Marvin had been lucky enough to overhear what the guy said to Trina, even as Charlotte dragged him away and lectured him on how he shouldn’t just punch someone that he didn’t know. He wasn’t listening to that, anyway. He was thinking about what the guy said. 

_“Nice punch.”_

Yeah, okay. He’d _see_ some nice punches tonight, at midnight. It wouldn’t take him much time to be able to sneak out without either of the girls catching him. And he doubted that they would end up going there, too. Although, Trina knew about this guy’s plan, so that might make things a little bit more difficult. 

He’d figure it out. He’d be there. He’d fight that asshole tonight, no matter what it took.

Trina caught up to them fairly quickly, still holding Marvin’s trumpet. She seemed annoyed, now. “Marv, you should really start _thinking_ before you just haphazardly throw around your trumpet and decide to punch people.”

“Oh, I thought,” Marvin stated. 

In reality, he didn’t think about it at all. He just knew that he had been very mad, and that the guy was _right there,_ he couldn’t stop himself. And he didn’t regret it at all, not one bit.

 

The regret didn’t set in at midnight, either, when Marvin managed to get away from Charlotte and Trina. It wasn’t nearly as hard as one might have thought -- Trina seemed to forget the offer to fight. Or, at least, she was pretending to have forget about it.

Anyway, Marvin had snuck away from them, and was waiting behind the library. It was almost 12:30 by now, and the other guy had not shown. Marvin was about to leave when he saw the tall figure coming down the same path that he himself had taken to get there.

“You’re still here.”

It was most definitely him. Marvin glared. “You said midnight sharp.”

The guy shrugged. “Yeah, I did. And I didn’t think that she would tell you.”

“She didn’t.”

“Oh? So you overheard?”

Marvin continued to glare, even as a smile crossed the other guy’s face.

“I’m Whizzer, by the way. Whizzer Brown.” And he held out a hand. 

_Whizzer?_

“Your parents must hate you,” Marvin stated, ignoring the outstretched hand. “Giving you a stupid name like that.”

The other -- _Whizzer_ \-- briefly looked almost offended or something by that, but it was covered by that stupid smile just as quick as it had come. “Actually, it was a high school nickname that stuck.”

“Bully victim?” Marvin shot back, relentless. 

Whizzer rolled his eyes. “It was a good thing, asshole. I was the fastest runner on my school’s baseball team.””

Marvin didn’t care. Without a thought, he threw a punch. To his surprise, Whizzer was quick to retaliate. Marvin was hit in the gut by Whizzer’s fist, getting the wind knocked out of him. 

And that was all it took. Punches were thrown back and forth. Neither one of them seemed to be able to feel it because of all of the adrenaline pumping through both of them. Neither one of them seemed like they were about to quit anytime soon, either. 

Marvin had Whizzer pinned to the ground and was about to land another punch straight to his face when he was paused by hearing a voice.

“Hey!”

Both Whizzer and Marvin turned their heads. Marvin groaned internally when he saw Charlotte coming in. Followed by… that blonde girl, the one that Whizzer was friends with.

“Cordelia?” Whizzer complained.

She frowned at him, “I thought you said that you weren’t going to fight him.”

Whizzer had started to reply, before Charlotte yelled at Marvin to get off of him. With annoyance, he did. Whizzer stayed in his place on the ground, running his hands over his face.

Marvin thought, with satisfaction, that the pain was starting to sink in. He, himself, was sore, but it wasn’t anything too bad. Most of Whizzer’s blows had just been to his stomach or legs, almost if the guy was _afraid_ to go for his face. Marvin wasn’t, quite obviously. Whizzer was bound to have at least a black eye.

“Are you proud of yourself?” Charlotte asked Marvin, irritated, as Cordelia was going over to help Whizzer up.

Marvin huffed. “How did you even know we were out here.”

Cordelia looked over at him. “Whizzer was pretty loud when offering to fight you. I’m surprised you didn’t get an audience.”

Charlotte actually laughed at that, which kind of irritated Marvin. Whizzer didn’t look too amused either, as he was brushing off his clothes and trying to fix his hair. 

Charlotte and Cordelia actually stood there and made fun of the both of them for a moment. Marvin turned around and left, going back to his dorm. It wasn’t long before Charlotte was at his side. 

“Really, Marvin. Are you proud of yourself?”

Marvin shrugged. “Looks like _I_ won the fight, wouldn’t you say?”

Charlotte glared at him, but didn’t say anything else.

\---

“Are you _sure_ you’re okay?”

Whizzer sighed. “Yes, Delia. A headache, but I’m fine.”

Cordelia gave up, for just a moment.

It was certainly more than a headache, and both of them knew that. Whizzer’s entire face hurt. And his chest, and his stomach -- Marvin really _was_ strong. He really _did_ throw good punches. And he wasn’t at all playing, he took that entire thing seriously. Whizzer had sort’ve seen it as play, as a game, just for fun. At least, he did at first. It didn’t take him long to realize that Marvin wasn’t fooling around.

His left eye throbbed. He wouldn’t have been too surprised if it ended up bruising. It probably already was, judging by the way Cordelia was looking at him. 

“What?” Whizzer questioned. 

Cordelia was frowning. “You’re going to want to ice that tonight.”

“Is it bruised?” 

She nodded. “Yeah.. Badly.”

Whizzer groaned. _Great._ That just meant that he’d be using a lot of Cordelia’s makeup to cover it. He couldn’t have a bad bruise ruining his features.

 

Mendel was there to point out how bad it was, too, when Whizzer returned to the dorm. 

“Oh my god,” he mumbled, actually flinching. “Whizzer, you shouldn’t have fought him.”

Whizzer only shrugged, taking Cordelia’s previous advice and getting an icepack from the freezer before flopping himself down on his own bed. Mendel was still staring. “He was rough,” Whizzer agreed.

Mendel laughed incredulously. “Uh, _yeah,_ I would assume so. Just -- promise us you won’t do that again. Do you know how scared we were when we came back and you were gone?”

Yeah, Whizzer had snuck out while Cordelia and Mendel were studying in the school’s library. It was a horrible library, there was hardly anything that any student actually needed, but it definitely made for a good study spot. Especially this late at night. And, yeah, Whizzer told them that he was just going to go to bed, that he wasn’t going to go fight Marvin.

“Sorry,” Whizzer murmured, in one of those sorry-not-sorry tones that he often used. What he said next was more genuine. “I didn’t think it would be so serious, honestly. I didn’t actually go into the fight with the intention of either of us getting hurt.”

Because, if he _was_ initially intending to hurt Marvin, he really would have. He could be vicious when he wanted to be.

Mendel nodded with a sigh. “Just don’t do it again,” he repeated.

Whizzer removed the icepack, looking at him with a grin. “No promises.”


End file.
